


Marks

by nanuk_dain



Series: Impossible Relationships [11]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-24
Updated: 2011-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-28 00:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanuk_dain/pseuds/nanuk_dain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim leaves a mark. Then he covers it with another one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marks

  
[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/nanuk_dain/pic/000be3gq)   


 

The day had worn on and turned into the late afternoon. The football game had been abandoned after two more cases of sudden aggression and the men had returned to their tasks. Tim was leaning against the Humvee of One Alpha and watched Ray sing and dance, some of the men singing along with him. He seemed relaxed and cheerful, but Tim could see through his mask as easily as if it wasn't there at all. He remembered the desperate grip of Ray's hands on his t-shirt, remembered the hitch in his breath, remembered the way Ray had pressed against him, seeking comfort, strength, closeness.

Ray had totally lost it on the airfield when he'd attacked Rudy, had hit his breaking point hard. It had been far later than Tim had expected and he was surprised that Ray had held up this long considering the additional strain of going cold turkey from Ripped Fuel. He knew the issue wasn't solved, he'd only given Ray enough strength to keep going for now.

Tim was incredibly grateful that Ray hadn't seen Brad standing in the doorway, hadn't realised they'd been caught. At this point, it wouldn't do Ray any good to know that somebody had seen him at his weakest, and Tim was relieved that he didn't have to expect any trouble from Brad. It could have turned ugly if Brad had decided to report them. Tim had no illusions about what would have happened. At the same time he'd had an inkling that Brad wouldn't cause them any trouble. Brad might not show it openly, but he cared about Ray, and Tim didn't think he would put him through so much pain on purpose. Still, Tim had had to hear that from Brad himself, had to know for sure that he was no danger to Ray. It was the only reason why Tim had approached Brad, had dared to address this dangerous matter with a person who was in the forces and therefore bound to the same rules he was.

Tim watched Ray move around, watched him talk with the other guys, seemingly back to his old self, but Tim couldn't help noticing the edge that was hidden right under the surface. He remembered how Ray had let go when they'd been in the office at the soccer stadium in Baghdad, and it gave him an idea what to do to ease the tension within Ray. He could offer reassurance, closeness, pleasure. While that was something they both craved, Tim knew that for Ray, it was _essential_ to take the edge off the strain.

Tim caught Ray's gaze, only for a mere second, and it was right then that he decided to find a private place for them, even if only for a few minutes – a place where he could make Ray forget all his worries, could make him abandon every conscious thought. More than anything, Ray needed a moment to let down his guard, to allow himself to recharge. Tim knew Ray wouldn't except it from anybody in the Corps, would see it as a sign of weakness that he couldn't allow to show, and he wasn't entirely sure he'd accept it coming from Tim, either. It was a daring offer to make and it could end badly, but Tim considered that a necessary risk. One he would gladly take if it helped Ray regain a measure of balance. Screw the other Marines. Screw the lack of privacy. Screw DADT.

Tim remained leaning against One Alpha's Humvee until Chaffin came by and asked for another treatment of his still-sore feet. Tim only nodded and led him over to his own Humvee, where his pack with the medical supplies sat on the back seat. Once he was done, he took the opportunity to check out the nearby buildings in order to find a place that was secluded enough to allow him to take care of Ray appropriately. It took him the better part of an hour to find what he was looking for, but once he'd discovered the storage space high up in one of the abandoned buildings on the outskirts of the airfield, he returned to the camp with a well hidden smirk. Now he just had to find a way to get Ray over there without raising any suspicions. Nobody could notice that they were gone, or this would become way more dangerous that it already was.

Tim almost couldn't believe his luck when he came across Ray making an inventory of a rather large rag-bag of ammunition right outside a halfway destroyed hangar. Tim only stopped to give him the position of the abandoned building and tell him to be there in an hour. Ray didn't ask any questions, he just nodded and Tim continued his way back to his own team.

The one hour of waiting dragged on as if time didn't want to pass. Tim knew he and Ray couldn't be seen leaving together, so he made sure to arrive at the abandoned building a bit later than Ray. It came as no surprise to find that Ray had correctly located the building and even the room Tim had had in mind. There must have been something common to their training that made them think along the same lines, and Tim had never been more grateful for it.

“Tim, what...” Ray never managed to finish his question. Tim had reached him with three long strides and his hands settled on Ray's face, cupped his jaw and pulled him in. It was the first time Tim initiated the contact, and he was well aware of it. He was sure Ray knew it too, and understood what it meant.

Ray caught up with the programme immediately. He didn't hesitate to return the kiss, a hoarse groan somewhere deep in his throat, and his hands took hold of Tim's waist, pulling him closer so that their bodies touched from head to toe. Tim felt something deep inside him burst at the contact, at Ray's willingness to give in to Tim's wordless offer and return it at the same time. It made him forget all caution, the craving to just _feel_ Ray suddenly so strong that it almost overwhelmed him. His hands worked on the multiple layers of Ray's clothes, pulled off his flak jacket, removed his gear and his uniform jacket with single-minded efficiency.

Ray wasn't far behind, his deft fingers already underneath Tim's t-shirt, passing over bare skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Tim's flak jacket had fallen somewhere behind him, his belt and his jacket lay in a pile on top of it. Never once did they separated longer than it took to get rid of their clothes, and Tim pulled back only long enough to tear Ray's t-shirt over his head and throw it aside. He didn't care about the rules he'd been taught by the Corps, didn't care for caution or discipline. He wanted to feel skin on skin, wanted the kind of contact that could never be achieved with any layers of clothes separating them. There was an intimacy, a _closeness_ , to the touch of warm, naked skin on skin that reached deeper than words, deeper than pleasure or desire. It was something fundamental to humanity, something that Tim would never be able to put in words, and he wanted – he _needed_ – to share it with Ray. He had to make him understand, make him _feel_ it.

For a moment, Ray seemed surprised that Tim had removed his t-shirt, had stepped over the boundaries they were so used to follow. Tim took the opportunity to get off his own t-shirt, then he settled his hands on Ray's bare waist and pulled him close until their chests touched, until there was no space left between them. He let his hands caress Ray's back, his fingers stroking over the skin in a touch as light as a feather, and with a low, heartfelt moan, Ray melted against him, into his embrace, into his touch. It was as if all the pent up rage, the profound tension, washed out of him, and Tim smiled against his lips. That was exactly what he'd hoped for.

Ray's mouth left Tim's to trail over his neck to his shoulder, his hands busy on Tim's pants. Within seconds, he had a firm grip on Tim's erection, moving in a rhythm that was meant to bring Tim off. No teasing, no games. It was pure need, and Tim understood it only too well. He couldn't help the low growl that escaped him at Ray's touch, couldn't keep his hips from bucking or his body from reacting. He quickly opened Ray's belt and fly to return the favour. There was so much more he wanted to do with Ray, _to_ Ray, but he knew this wasn't the time. Or the place, for that matter.

Tim tightened his grip on Ray's erection and got a deep groan in response, along with the reflexive clenching of Ray's hand on him. It made him screw his eyes shut and gave him ideas of what he wanted to do, what he _would_ do once they had some real privacy away from this whole clusterfuck that was OIF.

“Next time, I'll blow you.” Tim murmured against Ray's ear and felt a shiver run through his entire body.

“That... a... promise?” Ray's voice was hoarse and the words were a little slurred, as if it cost him a great effort to talk at all.

Tim smirked against the skin of Ray's neck. “Yes.”

“Oh God...” Ray thrust in his hand with mindless passion, the fingers of his free hand digging in Tim's biceps. He pressed against Tim, his movements irregular and frantic, his breath coming in pants. “Tim... close...”

Tim couldn't help chuckling. It was almost comical how Ray – of all people – seemed to lose his grip on words once they started getting it on. Tim had expected him to be loud and to talk dirty in bed – not that they'd ever actually been in a _bed_ together. But while Ray was indeed loud – Tim could tell by the effort it took him to be silent and the hand he had to press over his mouth ever so often – he didn't seem to retain the capability to speak. It was almost endearing, and it was most certainly hot. Especially since Tim slowly began to understand the variety of sounds Ray made.

It was fascinating how Ray managed to express _everything_ without actually saying a word.

Tim loved how incredibly responsive Ray was, how he let all his walls come down in moments of passion. One day, Tim wanted to take Ray to his apartment where Ray didn't have to hold back, where he could be as loud as he wanted, where Tim could absorb every noise he made without having to worry about some Marine hearing them. He wanted to hear Ray scream out what he had to keep inside now.

"Josh..." Tim let his tongue trail along Ray's collarbone before he blew lightly against the wet skin of his neck. It made a shiver pass through Ray's whole body, made him gasp and his thrusts stutter.

"Let go." Tim murmured, then he moved his hand faster and tightened his fist a tiny fraction, just enough to make Ray feel it, and licked along Ray's earlobe. "Come for me, Josh."

Ray growled, low and hoarse, a mixture of needy, possessive and desperate. The hand on Tim's erection followed the quick rhythm Tim set up while Ray's other hand turned frantic, wandered over the skin of his back, his shoulders, his neck, up to the knot of his bandana. With one quick movement of his hand, Ray had pulled it off, his fingers burying in Tim's hair, clenching into fists and tugging on the short strands.

Tim groaned in reaction to it. He couldn't have held back the noise even if he had wanted to. He'd always loved it when his partners were a bit rough, and even more when they pulled his hair. Ray had discovered this weak spot of his without having to search for it, it was as if he just _knew_ , and Tim leaned into the touch without holding anything back. It just felt too good, sent spikes of arousal through his entire body and made his brain shut down for good. He could only feel, take in the scratch of Ray's fingernails on his scalp, the hot, demanding tongue that was back in his mouth, the press of Ray's strong, wiry body against his own.

Tim felt himself come close and let go of Ray's mouth. He buried his nose against Ray's neck, lips pressed against his skin in an attempt to keep quiet. Ray's hand carded through his hair, tugging and holding on, and it was just what he'd needed. Tim groaned and his mouth opened against Ray's neck, tasting him where his tongue touched his skin. His mind was filled with sensations, smell, feel, taste, sound. Only a second later he felt red-hot pleasure shoot through his body as he came in Ray's hand. He bit down on the flesh under his lips, trying and failing to hold back his growl. Ray shuddered in his arms, his hand clenching into a fist in Tim's short hair, accompanied by a hoarse groan and the hot wetness of his come covering Tim's hand.

For a long time, Tim could only lean against Ray, his hands resting on the bare skin, his forehead touching Ray's shoulder. He could feel Ray's harsh breath in the movement of his chest where it was pressed against Tim's. Ray's fingers were passing through Tim's hair in an almost lazy caress, his breath was warm where it met the skin of Tim's neck.

“I left quite a mark.” Tim murmured when he had regained his breath enough to speak. He let his fingertips trail over the bruised spot on the side of Ray's neck. “Sorry.”

“I'll wear it with pride.” Ray replied with a lazy grin.

Tim chuckled, his lips resting against Ray's shoulder. “Josh, really, you're absolutely insane.”

“Most would say that _you_ are for being here with me in the first place.” Ray replied quietly, and Tim could hear the grin as much as he felt it against the skin of his collarbone.

“Maybe they're right.” Tim agreed equally quiet. “I've known all along that I'm not entirely sane, or I would never have joined the forces.”

Ray snorted. “True enough.”

Tim ran his fingers over the bruised skin again, feeling inexplicably proud to see his mark on Ray's neck. “And while I'm flattered you want to show it off with pride, I think it's a bad idea. You'll have to cover that.”

“I know.” Ray chuckled. “Nobody would believe me if I told them I had a hot encounter with an hot Iraqi girl here in the middle of the camp.”

“True. Especially since there are no women in a five-mile radius.” Tim hesitated for a moment, then he reached for his bandana that Ray had pulled off his head earlier. “Here, take that.”

Ray looked at him with surprise. “You sure?”

Tim nodded and suddenly a smile spread over Ray's face that was beautiful in its sincerity. Ray took the bandana from Tim's hand and wrapped it around his neck before he tied the ends together. He tugged on the fabric until he was satisfied that the spot on his neck was covered.

“Everybody knows this bandana is yours.” Ray remarked with a smirk and rolled the seam between his fingertips. “It's nearly as obvious as showing the mark, you know that, don't you?”

“It's a standard military issued bandana, Josh.” Tim replied with a shrug. “It's not like I'm the only one in the whole battalion who has one.”

“Maybe. But you're the only who has made it a trademark.”

“You can just pull up your collar for the next few days if you prefer.” Tim replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Nah.” Ray grinned broadly and played with a corner of the bandana. “I'll wear it with pride.”

**Author's Note:**

> A wee comment as a Christmas gift...? *puppy dog eyes* ^^


End file.
